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M10 - Owari
With the sea titan once again sealed away just two days prior, the heavy, nonstop rains that had plagued Sazanami for the past two months finally dwindled into a light drizzle. The black, imposing storm clouds that had banished the sun and moon from Sazanami’s gaze now turned a gentle shade of grey. Every ten meters or so, a patch of sunlight broke through the sky’s veil and lit up the island nation in a way that many could swear was a sight that had been nearly lost forever. Below the sprawling cloud barrier, a select group stands along the coast, made up a few of the Sazanamese warlords -- Isas, Shino, Takeshi, Sho, and Shogo, who is watched by his grandmother -- accompanied by their respective assistants; their Shōgun; the bug ninjas Ju-long and Kamen; Ryūjin and his two children; Yagami, Bál, and Hoori; and the Aetherians Alaric, Gawain, and Nicholas; despite the weather, gathering for the purpose to say one last goodbye to an old friend. : The rain and grey sky makes this a tad unpleasant. : I could clear the skies if that would make it better. : No, thank you, Ryūjin-sama, but the rain should stay. Nobuhide-san had always expressed a love of it, so I will put aside my discomfort for him. : Nobuhide-san would appreciate your gesture, Katsumi-san. For many a-year he expressed to me a disappointment at not inviting you to his lands for fear that you wouldn’t enjoy the waters; it would warm his heart to hear you’d remain with him here. : Mmm, then I hope his spirit is satisfied with what gestures I can give him now, for I feel the weight of time poorly spent on my heart with him gone. : For Nobuhide-san, there was no poorly spent time, simply a ‘mon dedicated to seeing their time used as they desired. Rest assured, any and all time you spent on him, no matter the context, was a treasure to him. : Ha, that ol’ Nobu-ism, eh? : But of course, it would be wrong of me to not use some of his favourites. He always said he’d live on in those, after all. : Heh, well, knowing Nobuhide-san, if he had heard you say that, he would have told you that he could sea through you. Wakana turns her head towards her husband and gives him a flat look. : Oh? Are you sure? I don’t think he would rain on my parade like that. : Sho-sama… : Now now, it’s okay, everyone. After all… : ...water you all confused about? Shore, it could be sean as being in bad taste, but let’s not drift apart over it. Nobuhide-san loved this sort of thing, he’d want us all to be drowning in the experience. I mean, sure, Sho-san and Takeshi-san are fishing for reactions, but so would Nobuhide, so is it reelly that bad to take the bait here? It wouldn’t krill you all to have some fun, so smile and try to stay afloat! Half of the congregation laughs while the other half groans. It is clear that Nobuhide’s love of water jokes would be one of the bigger parts of the otter’s memory that would remain alive. : Haa, he’d be proud of those. : But, for the sake of those of us who want to preserve his memories in other fashions, we should conclude the ceremony. Manami-sama, could you please...? : Of course, Hoori-san. With that, Manami begins to recite a long, poignant incantation in Sazanamese -- with some parts in common so all could understand their meaning -- at the site Nobuhide rested in; to honour his love of the sea and hobby of fishing, Nobuhide had been buried in a sandy outcropping near a large collection of tide pools by the ocean. Nobuhide’s body had been buried the day it had been discovered, as there was no good way to keep it preserved until a funeral could be held for him, but, now that the sea titan had returned to its slumber and Nobuhide’s labours had given Sazanami the fruits he had wanted it to have in life, the otter could be given his final rites. Eventually, Manami ceases to speak and allows Katsumi to step up. The monkey speaks in Sazanamese for several minutes, her meaning lost on the common-speakers, but her emotions are clear; in stark contrast to her fiery nature, her feelings flow and curl and crash upon those who listened like waves rushing to the shore. After her, Takeshi moves up to speak, as he was Nobuhide’s oldest friend, and gives his words to the ocean, facing the blue waters directly as he speaks and allowing the waves to pull his parting wishes and goodbyes into the sea with them as they retreat. Sho is next to speak, as he’d known Nobuhide almost as long as Takeshi, and had been his student in his youth. The rest of the warlords follow en suit by the order of how well they had known Nobuhide -- Shino followed Sho, Shogo followed him, and finally Isas gave his mumbles -- and leave the final words to be said by Hoori. The turtle is far from elegant in his speech when he first begins to speak; he stutters and fumbles his words, often going back to correct himself or re-word something, as if he believed this was the single most important thing he would ever do. Eventually, Hoori calmed. His words gain confidence, his voice conveys clarity, and his voice rings out like the smooth chiming of a bell. There were tears in his eyes from the moment he started talking to the moment he finished, but, by the time he’s done, he’s not the only one. Once Hoori had finished speaking and stepped back to give her the room she needed, Manami steps forward and offers one last utterance. All of the Sazanami speaking ‘mons repeat it. With that, Ichikawa Nobuhide had been laid to rest. Everyone save for Hoori and Sho move away from the sandy outcropping, gathering in groups to discuss the funeral. With the warlords and their assistants taking amongst themselves, the Aetherians giving them space, the rest of the ‘mons present circle together in a miscellaneous group… which meant Ryūjin had no trouble slipping past everyone so he could make his way over to the Typhlosion who stood alone several meters away from everyone else. : How are you? : Abou’ the same as you las’ saw me. : You know what I was referring to, Bál-san. Nobuhide-san was a friend of yours, his loss cannot have bypassed you entirely. : I knew wha’ you meant and answ’red accordin’ly: I’m abou’ the same as you las’ saw me. I’m slow to grieve an’ quick to move on, you know that. (The Typhlosion turns to face the Lugia, his shaggy fur whipping and bouncing as his body moves.) What abou’ you? : Mm? : Are you feelin’ a’right after everythin’? I know how you get your powers an’ you haven’t had a lot of input energy lately. Even now and durin’ the ceremony that you were kind enough to “bless” us with your presence for, no one’s givin’ you any attention. : You know just as well as I that is not my sole source of power. I need not rely on it alone. : (snorting, the flames around his neck flashing blue as he does) Coulda fooled me, what with your performance issues. Looks to me as if you’ve been relyin’ on that as your sole source a tad too much of late, eh “goddy”? : Ah, yes, well… my normal response would be that I was a little overwhelmed by the sudden corruption of the people of this land -- though, I’m not the only “God” in Avalon who is witnessing this corruption, and I am lucky to have escaped it without being corrupted myself -- but I know well that you don’t care for that sort of talk. : Indeed you do. You know bett’r than most that you need not prove to me how “godly” you are, I don’t care about it anyway. Bál leans back, draping one arm across the front of his chest and placing the elbow of his other arm on the draped arm, pointing a single finger of his propped-up arm at the Lugia. He opens his mouth to say something… but, as he’s taking in a breath to last him a long sentence, he sees Hoori slip away from Sho, the latter who watches him leave in a knowing fashion but does nothing to stop him. The Typhlosion considers his options for a second, and then snaps his mouth closed and makes a beeline towards the turtle. : There was something else I needed to speak to you about. : Can it wait? I see a conflict that needs resolvin’ and it’s gettin’ away from me. : Oh, I’d argue said-conflict moves a lot slower than you, but yes, it can wait. I was planning to invite you to the Dragon Palace for a more private conversation anyway. : (giving the Lugia a questioning look, but the matter of Hoori stops him from pressing Ryūjin further) Right then, let Yagami know when you want me. : Will you be okay with us meeting there? It IS underwater. : What? Underwat’r, wh-- Ugh, yeah, whatev’r, I need to go catch up with the kid, so just let Yagami know and I’ll be there. Ryūjin laughs as the Typhlosion hurries off. : Seems like nobody has time for the “gods” nowadays. There are no servants around in Nobuhide’s house; they had all returned to their homes, if their homes had not been touched during the events with the sea titan. Hoori is partly glad about that; he had wanted to be alone when he saw what words Nobuhide had left him. With one last glance around, he enters Nobuhide’s office. The office is exactly as he remembered it, which is both comforting and sombering to Hoori. So many memories were held within the four walls of the room, but none of them were without the Samurott. Everything is left the way it had been since the day the otter had been murdered, save for the blood which had been cleaned up. Hoori walks through the office slowly, looking at everything, trying to invoke the same intensity and eye for detail he could remember Nobuhide had possessed; he is sure he’s missing something, not because of any doubt in his own abilities but because something feels off. The room seemed different, as if something has perverted it during the time Nobuhide had been absent from it. There is no note in sight in the office, though, that made sense; if Nobuhide had left his letter to Hoori in the open, anyone could have found and read its contents. Of course Nobuhide would have hidden it, and Hoori knew exactly where. Sitting at the otter’s desk, Hoori feels the underside of the desk until his fingers brush over something metal; gripping onto the object, Hoori pulls it out from underneath the desk to reveal an open drawer. One he had expected to have a note in it. : Lookin’ for somethin’? Hoori jumps out of the chair, knocking it backwards onto the ground. The Typhlosion stands at the entrance of the room, arms crossed and eyes judgeful. : You’ll need to pull up the false bottom of that draw’r to reveal the lett’r Sho mentioned to you -- alongside his pers’nal journal containin’ his notes on this whole traitor business as well. : An’ try not to look so troubled, we read through the journal, we left the lett’r sealed for you. : Ah, I-I wasn’t-- : It’s a’right, I will leave you to read it… I just ask you to listen car’fully to what that letter tells you. : But how can you advise that without knowing it’s content? : I don’t need to know wha’ he would have said, me an’ Yagami have known him for some time now. : (looking down, a regretful expression on his face) I know you knew him, but I’m starting to wonder if I really knew him. There is so much he never told me… I wish he would have trusted me more and allowed me to help him. : I understand you’re upset, but don’t be stupid. Nobuhide knew what he was gettin’ into, he didn’t want you to get involved so he could protect you. After all, he trusted you to take care of wha’ he left behind, an’ that thought gave him the reassurance he needed to finish what lay ahead of him. I would feel proud if I were you. : What he left behind? : I’ll leave you to read the lett’r. With that, Bál leaves, spotting a snowy owl in the hallway outside of the room waiting for him. The Togekiss waits for the Typhlosion to reach him with a face that says endless patience but eyes that scream conviction; Yagami opens his mouth to say something, but he catches a glint in the Typhlosion's gaze that silences him. In place of words, he settles on sending Bál a flat stare and walks out with him in silence.